Stars All Shine
by FaithInSnape
Summary: Rosalie Hale is a successful supermodel who seems to have it all: beauty, fame, wealth, and a gorgeous boyfriend. But what happens when she begins to realize that something is missing? Rosalie/Emmett. Human. AU
1. Missing

**Author's Note:** Welcome! I'm a big Emmett/Rosalie fan...and since there doesn't seem to be very many EmRose fics, I figured I'd try my hand at writing one. I hope I can do the idea in my mind justice and make them proud. We'll see. Thanks for reading! 

**Disclaimer:** All my wishes on stars and I'm still not Stephenie Meyer. Pity.

---

**Stars All Shine**

**Chapter One: Missing**

I love nights like this, where the stars all shine so brightly in a dark indigo sky. It makes me feel as though everything and everyone has a purpose and every dream I've ever had is within reach. It makes me feel as though I am on the right path, that I am finally becoming what I had been meant to become all along. Something other than the role I usually filled in this life: an object of desire, a mere decoration.

My name is Rosalie Lillian Hale and I am a supermodel. Or was.

Go ahead. Groan. I know you want to. Most people think models are just hollow, shallow, superficial people who care only about their looks. I suppose to someone outside of our world, that might seem true. And maybe it is true. For some models. But not for me.

Please don't misunderstand. I do love my beauty and the power it has always given me. The power to wrap people around my finger in an instant, the power to make men come undone with just one look. But at times it can feel like I am here only for other people. To be their beautiful daughter, their caring older sister, or just the pretty blonde they pause to glance at as they flip through a random magazine.

No one knew me. No one had ever taken the time to get to know me as a person. My thoughts, my dreams, my desires...

For a long time, I believed that there was nothing more I would ever want than to be who I was. To be that face on a magazine cover. To be the girl that every other girl wants to be. I thought nothing could ever make me happier.

How wrong I was.

**-- Six Months Earlier --**

"Rosalie, can you come in here please?"

I sighed as I heard my agent's voice call out from her office. I had known this was coming for a while. My career seemed to have taken a turn for the worst. And no matter what I did to turn it around, it just didn't seem to work. I knew that it couldn't go on for much longer before she would be calling me into her office to cancel my contract.

The day had obviously arrived.

As I walked into her stylishly decorated office and sat down in one of the chairs in front of her desk, Eva Avera looked at me thoughtfully for a moment.

I folded my hands in my lap to hide my anxiousness.

"Rosalie, you know that you have been one of my most successful girls. _The_ most successful, actually," she said, folding her hands on the desk in front of her.

It was true. Her agency had been fairly small when she signed me. I was just a young model hopeful looking for an agent and she was a young agent looking for her first big model. We immediately hit it off. She offered me a fair contract, I accepted, and we launched each other into superstardom. Her agency was now among the most renown in the modeling world.

"Unfortunately," she said slowly, her brow furrowing slightly in evidence that she didn't particularly want to say what she was about to say. And to be honest, I didn't particularly want to hear it. "Your career has been slowing down lately. I've...I've had some complaints."

I looked at her curiously, doing my best to hide my surprise. That was news to me. I mean, I knew that I hadn't been booking as many jobs as I usually did, but...complaints?

"Tell me what's going on, Rose? Has something happened...?," Eva asked. I could tell that she was not only a boss, but a genuinely concerned friend. But I still couldn't explain it to her. I didn't even fully understand it myself.

"No," I said quietly, hoping she would move on, since I didn't know what else to say.

Of course, she wasn't satisfied with such a simple answer.

"Ever since the Connelly job, you've been...different," she explained, "One of the clients last week said that there was something 'missing' in your pictures. I saw the frames myself and...I have to agree. You're beautiful, Rosalie, you know that. But it's like the light in your eyes has gone out. And it really worries me."

I looked over to one of the large windows exposing the New York skyline for a moment before turning back to her, "are you canceling my contract?"

Eva sighed. I suppose she had wanted to break it to me gently. But that wasn't my style. If I needed to find another agent, or another line of work entirely, then I needed to know straight up. After all, I had bills to pay.

Her answer surprised me.

"No, I'm not canceling your contract. I've thought about it for a while and I've decided to let you take a leave of absence. Paid, of course," Eva said, tilting her head to the side slightly as she looked at me with eyes full of worry, "I really want you to take the time to think about things and...to figure out whatever it is that you need to figure out."

Well, at least I wasn't completely fired. I supposed that was a good thing. But what was I supposed to do during this 'leave of absence'? What was this thing that I was supposed to 'figure out'?

My life was perfect. I was beautiful, wealthy, had an apartment that I loved, and a very attractive boyfriend who was just as successful in the modeling industry as I was. What else could I possibly want?

"You have my cell number. If you need anything at all, don't hesitate to call me," Eva said, bringing my thoughts back to the here and now. I nodded as I stood up and silently left her office.

---

During the drive back to my apartment, I did a lot of thinking about what Eva had said. The fact that a client - or possibly even more than one - had complained about my shoot was gnawing away at me. I wondered exactly what the client had thought was 'missing' from my pictures. I always gave jobs my full dedication and did everything I had been trained to do.

Perhaps this client had simply been expecting more than I could give.

Deep down, however, I knew that wasn't the case. I knew something had indeed changed recently and now, it was my job to discover exactly what it was or I would lose everything I had worked so hard for.

Something told me this wasn't going to be easy.

---

As I unlocked the door to my apartment and went in, closing and locking the door behind me, I walked over to the answering machine like I did every day. Sure enough, there were a couple of messages waiting to be listened to. They were probably all from Phillip.

I had been avoiding him lately. Each time he had called, I'd give him some reason why I couldn't go out. I wasn't feeling well, I had a shoot, I had a business function to attend. He had to know that I was lying, but he didn't seem to care enough to ask why.

I absentmindedly pressed the play button as I carelessly flipped through the assortment of mail I had retrieved from my mailbox in the lobby a few moments earlier.

_'Hi, Rose baby, it's me. I'm sitting here all alone, thinking of you and missing your beautiful lips and yo-'_

I pressed the stop button on my answering machine, not wanting to hear him listing all my physical traits again. All of his messages seemed to be the same. He was missing my lips, my eyes, my hair, or whatever other part of my body happened to be at the forefront of his mind at that moment in time. Thoughtful as his messages were, I didn't particularly care to hear one at the moment.

With a sigh, I pressed the 'next' button.

_'Uh, hey. I've been hired by the owner to do a few repairs to the building. So I'll be dropping by tomorrow morning around 8 AM to uh, assess and inspect your apartment. My name's Emmett, by the way. See you then.'_

Just great. I get told by my boss to take time off to do some thinking and it just happens to be the same week that they decide to do repairs to the building.

The last time they did repairs on this building, I would get a massive headache anytime I spent more than five minutes in my apartment. All the hammering and drilling going on for hours at a time was enough to drive a person insane. There was no way I would be able to stay at home with all that noise. Especially if I was supposed to be 'thinking.'

_'Maybe I'll end up calling Phillip after all,'_ I thought with a sigh as I headed for my bedroom to change into my pajamas. Since I had no plans to go anywhere this evening, snuggling up with a good book sounded like a good idea. I figured it might get my mind off of the meeting with Eva.

Moments later, I was fully engrossed in a moving tale about four friends who shared an article of clothing, even while on on different continents. The characters were so carefree with each other. They held nothing back. I found myself wishing I had that kind of connection to someone.

Before I knew it, hours had passed and it was time for bed. Especially if I was going to have to get up and let this 'Emmett' guy inspect my apartment early in the morning.

I reached over to turn off the small lamp on my nightstand and rolled over, scrunching my pillow under my head like I did every night, and closed my eyes.

Glorious sleep. Oh, how I love thee.

---

**So there you go, the first chapter. Please let me know what you think. Thanks!**


	2. Inspection

**Disclaimer: **Rosalie and Emmett belong to Stephenie Meyer. Unfortunately.

_---_

**Stars All Shine **

**Chapter Two: Inspection**_  
_

_Ding dong_.

I groggily reached a hand out of my warm covers and pressed the snooze button on my alarm clock before quickly falling back into my peaceful slumber.

It didn't last long.

_Ding dong. Ding dong._

I reached down and pulled my blanket up over my head.

_Ding dong. Ding dong. Ding dong._

Followed by my pillow.

_Ding dong. Ding dong. Ding dong. Ding dong._

With an annoyed groan, I sat up on the side of my bed for a moment, glancing over at the clock. 8 AM. Who in their right mind would be playing with my doorbell at 8 o'clock in the morning? Then I remembered. Some guy was coming to inspect my apartment. Great.

Without worrying about the fact that my wavy, blonde hair was all over the place from having just woken up, or that my short silk pajamas barely reached below my hips, I padded to the front door.

_Ding dong. Ding dong. Ding dong. Ding dong. Din-_

"May I help you?," I asked sharply the moment I opened the door, catching the surprisingly large visitor in mid-ding. I had to hide a grin at the disappointment on his face as he looked up at me, looking as though he had really been enjoying ringing my bell. What a loser.

His disappointment didn't last long.

I both saw and felt his eyes moving from my messy bedhead hair to the curves in my red silk pajamas and then back up. A pleased smile appeared on his lips as he met my eyes once more.

"Are you here to inspect _me_ or my apartment?," I asked, furrowing my brow and crossing my arms over my chest.

"Well, to be honest, I don't mind doing both, but unfortunately...apartment comes first," he replied with a smirk.

I rolled my eyes. Typical.

"I assure you, the apartment is the only thing _you_ will be inspecting," I muttered under my breath as I motioned him in and closed the door. He must have heard me because I heard an hearty laugh follow me into the living room.

"Well, here you go. Have at it," I said, gesturing to whatever it was he was supposed to be inspecting.

"Wait a minute," he called out as I turned for my bedroom.

I turned back to look at him curiously, "yes?"

"I've seen you before," he started, scratching his head for a moment before his eyes suddenly grew.

And there it was. The realization that he had seen me on some billboard or in some magazine and probably...whoa, stop right there. That was definitely something I didn't want to think about.

"I'm sure you have. But if you don't mind, I'm going to go back in my room now. Have fun...inspecting," I said, turning back for my room.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a wide grin appear on his face.

I almost found myself grinning slightly as well. _Almost._

---

A short while later, I walked out of my bedroom, fully dressed and with my cell phone to my ear.

"Yes, I'm fine. I promise. I'll see you in a few hours. I love you, too," I said quietly, then snapped my phone shut.

"Who was that?"

The question caught me off guard and caused me to quickly turn toward the living room. I had completely forgotten that I currently had a 'guest' in my apartment.

I looked at him in disbelief. What kind of repairman asks a tenant who they were talking to on the phone? It was none of his business.

"My mother," I lied as I walked past him into the kitchen to start on a quick lunch.

Normally, I would run down to the nearby cafe on my days off and get a grilled chicken salad. But this wasn't a normal 'day off,' given that I was somewhat technically unemployed now. And I didn't particularly feel like going anywhere.

Or at least I hadn't until I was reminded of the stranger's presence.

"How much longer are you going to be here? Because my...mother is coming over in a little while," I asked, taking a few things out of the refrigerator to make my own salad.

"However long it takes to thoroughly _inspect_ this place," he replied with a wink, followed by that same wide grin I had seen earlier.

This time, I noticed that the grin made a perfect little dimple appear in each of his cheeks. Then immediately berated myself for noticing.

"Ok, well. Try to hurry it up, alright? She'll throw a fit if she finds a strange man in my apartment," I said as I began to make my salad.

"Strange," I heard him say with a chuckle.

A few moments later, I had completed my salad. Just a few pieces of lettuce, topped by a couple of cherry tomatoes, cucumbers, and croutons.

"That's not all you're having for lunch, is it?"

With a sigh, I looked up to find him staring at my salad as though it was the most unappealing meal he had ever seen. It probably was to him, given his size. He didn't exactly look the salad type.

"I happen to enjoy salad," I replied, pouring a small amount of fat-free raspberry vinaigrette dressing over my lunch and went to sit at the dining room table.

"You sure about that?," he asked, his suddenly serious eyes focused intently on mine.

I returned his gaze, my eyes full of curiosity. What did he mean by that? I was the one who had bought the salad ingredients. I wouldn't have done so if I didn't enjoy salad.

Though, as much sense as my logic made, I had the distinct feeling that he had meant more by his question. But how could he have? He didn't even know me.

No one did.

I didn't reply to his question. Instead, I began silently eating my salad and hoping that he wouldn't be in my apartment for too much longer. He was starting to make me uncomfortable.

He must have taken the hint, since he simply turned back to whatever he had been doing before I had come out of my bedroom without another word.

---

After finishing my small salad, I placed the bowl in the dishwasher and then headed for my bedroom to grab the book I had started the previous evening.

I still had an hour or so before Phillip would be arriving and hoped the book would make the pass time quickly.

I also hoped that my current houseguest would have left by then. Maybe if he saw that I wasn't paying him the least bit of attention, he would continue about his business and wrap it up quicker.

With that thought in mind, I curled up on the couch and opened the book to where I left off the night before.

---

"Miss?," came the all too familiar voice after one peaceful hour.

"Yes?," I asked, looking up from my book to where he was standing across the room.

"I'm going to have to do some work on this wall right here," the guy said, motioning to the wall separating the living room from my bedroom.

"Why? It looks perfectly fine to me," I replied, looking over at the wall that he had gestured to. There didn't seem to be any blemishes on it of any kind. No nail holes, no water spots. Not even a paint chip.

"At first glance, it does," he replied with a nod, "but there seems to be some hidden damage underneath all this designer paint."

I stared at him.

"It's not as strong as it looks," he added, "and I'm not sure how much longer it'll be able to hold up."

I dropped my book. Then quickly scrambled to pick it back up and seem as though I had simply lost my grip on it.

Surely he hadn't meant more by his statements than a simple explanation of why he needed to work on the wall.

After all, he was just a repairman. Nothing more.

He didn't even know me.

He couldn't have meant anything by it.

Could he have?

No, of course not.

"Fine," I said, snapping out of the battle currently raging inside of my mind, "do I need to get a hotel room for a few days?"

"Only if you want," he replied with a slight shrug.

We just stood there staring at each other for a moment, my eyes still full of curiosity, his full of...what? Understanding?

It was official. I was losing my mind. Or something just as horrible.

Perhaps I was so bothered by whatever this 'missing' part of my life was that my subconscious was starting to imagine things. Or starting to look for hidden meanings in places where they couldn't possibly exist. Such as in a random repairman's analysis of my wall.

As if some strange repairman could possibly know anything about my life.

Realizing that he was still standing there looking at me, I opened my mouth to speak, but was interrupted by the doorbell.

_Ding dong._

Damnit.

---

**Thanks for reading and for the reviews. :)**


	3. Phillip

**Author's Note: **Once again, thank you guys for reading and reviewing!

**Disclaimer:** Unfortunately, Rosalie and Emmett belong to Stephenie Meyer. Lucky girl.

---

**Stars All Shine**

**Chapter Three: Phillip**

I stood there, looking at my guest for a moment longer before finally walking over to the door just as it rang a second time.

With a sigh, I answered the door and wasn't surprised to find Phillip standing on the other side. He gave me one of his trademark smiles as he strolled past me into the foyer, not waiting for me to invite him in.

"Beautiful as always," he said, leaning in to give me a quick kiss on the cheek.

I merely smiled.

I guess that let him know that he had interrupted something.

"What's wrong?" he asked curiously before following my gaze toward toward the living room and seeing that we weren't alone.

"Oh. Who is this?" he asked, eyeing the visitor suspiciously.

"Uh, Phillip, this is...um...," I started, looking toward my guest as I realized I didn't know his name.

"Emmett," the guy answered with a friendly smile, holding out his hand for Phillip to shake, "Repairman Extraordinaire."

Phillip looked at Emmett's hand for a moment before finally reaching out to take it in his own.

I knew the cause of Phillip's hesitation. The guys were from two completely different worlds. That much was obvious just by looking at them. Emmett's large hand, most likely calloused by his labor, resembled a giant bear claw as he shook Phillip's smaller, perfectly manicured hand.

"It's nice to meet you, Emmett," Phillip said politely, giving me a questioning glance.

I shifted uncomfortably.

The air in the room seemed to thicken as the two guys stood there sizing each other up. I could tell that Phillip was feeling a slight bit threatened by Emmett's appearance, though he had no reason to be. Apartment repairmen weren't my style.

Then again, neither was Phillip.

It simply made sense for Phillip and me to be together.

We were both gorgeous, both models, and both independently wealthy. We had done a few photo shoots together in the past and had enjoyed each other's company on set. So one day, he asked me to accompany him to an awards show and I agreed.

It had been six months since he and I first held hands in public and the tabloids outed our relationship.

Paparazzi were curious creatures. The tiniest amount of physical contact is enough to convince them that two people are in love.

And, knowing it could be good publicity for our careers, we went with it.

I have to admit that Phillip and I do make a perfect couple as far as everyone else is concerned. Our parents were all thrilled with our decision to date each other. Phillip is everything my parents had always dreamed for me and likewise for me with Phillip's parents. Needless to say, we are constantly being asked when we are going to make our relationship 'official' and give them all beautiful grandchildren.

What they don't know is that Phillip doesn't want children.

He doesn't want marriage either.

So, for now at least, we are content to simply be one of those celebrity power couples. The ones that are photographed together at parties and premieres, but rarely spend any time alone together.

But there are times when I feel as though our relationship isn't enough for me. I've had that feeling a lot lately.

"So what are you doing here, Emmett?" Phillip asked, pulling me out of my thoughts and back to the present.

"Well, I was hired to inspect the apartment," Emmett began, a flicker of amusement in his eyes, "but it looks as though my services are needed and I'll be making some repairs in here over the next few days."

"Do you want to stay at my place?" Phillip asked me immediately, taking one of my hands in his. So he _was_ feeling threatened. For some reason, I found it amusing.

"Actually, I think I've decided to just stay here," I replied.

I saw a shadow of disappointment cross Phillip's face.

And a shadow of a smile cross Emmett's.

---

An hour later, I was seated across from Phillip at a nice table in a nice restaurant, mindlessly picking at the salad in front of me.

"So how did the meeting with Eva go yesterday?" Phillip asked, trying to make conversation.

"Fine," I answered simply, trying to make it plain that I wasn't much in the mood for conversation. Especially not about the meeting with Eva.

"I take it she didn't cancel your contract then?" he asked. I could tell he was relieved. God forbid I lose my status.

"No. She gave me paid leave instead," I admitted, taking a sip of my Chardonnay.

Thankfully, Phillip's cellphone rang at that exact moment, saving me from further questioning.

"It's my agent," he said, flipping open his phone and putting it to his ear.

While he spoke on the phone, I glanced around at the tables nearby. Seeing all the people sipping champagne, talking on their cellphones, and wearing designer clothing bothered me for some reason. But this was the world to which I belonged. A world where everything was for show. It didn't matter whether or not you were truly happy. As long as you smiled and pretended to be, no one cared to question it.

I suddenly realized that I was growing tired of pretending.

"I booked that job we were talking about the other day," Phillip said, bringing my attention back to him as he returned his phone to his pocket.

"Oh?"

"Yeah, so I'm going to be going to Italy for a week or two," he said between sips of his champagne, "I leave tomorrow."

"Oh."

"Are you going to be okay while I'm gone?" Phillip asked, giving me a concerned look.

"Of course. Why wouldn't I be?," I replied, looking at him curiously.

"Well, I thought with your new...house guest...," he said, pausing for a moment before adding, "you know, you're free to stay at my place while I'm gone."

"I know. Thank you. But I'm sure I'll be fine. He's not going to be there twenty-four seven. And neither am I, for that matter," I replied, "maybe I'll take the opportunity to go and visit my parents for a few days."

"I think that would be a very good idea," Phillip said, motioning for the waiter to bring our check.

---

After Phillip and I said our goodbyes, I closed and locked my apartment door just as he had instructed - not that I don't do that anyway - and then turned to go to my bedroom. As I walked past the dining room, something caught my eye.

Lying on the table, underneath some kind of tool, was a small slip of paper, on which was scrawled a short note. I couldn't help but smile to myself as I read the scrunched writing.

_'I look forward to knocking your wall down._

_- Emmett'_

_---_

**Awwww. I want an Emmett. lol **

**And now that we know a bit more about Rosalie's relationship with Phillip, onward we go!**


	4. Coffee

**Author's Note****:** Just thought I should clarify something. The reason Rosalie's boyfriend's name is 'Phillip' and not 'Royce' is because of three things: (1) I wanted a name that sounded more like a model, (2) Phillip isn't a bad guy, he just isn't the one that Rose is meant to be with (whereas Royce was a monster, in my opinion), and (3) frankly, I just don't like the name Royce. Perhaps it has something to do with the fact that, as I said earlier, the 'Royce' in the books was a monster. Oh, and having Royce be Rose's boyfriend/ex-boyfriend in the story would be a bit predictable as well, I think. So yeah. Phillip it is. :)

**Disclaimer****: **I don't own Rosalie or Emmett. :(

--

**Stars All Shine**

**Chapter Four: Coffee**

The following morning began the same as the previous had. The doorbell rang at exactly eight o'clock, signaling Emmett's arrival. Though this time, instead of pulling my covers over my head and trying to block out the sound, I found myself oddly anxious to let my new acquaintance in. In fact, I had gotten up a few minutes early, just so I could be ready and not be caught off guard as I had been the day before.

With my hand on the doorknob, I paused for a moment before opening the door as nonchalantly as I could.

As soon as he saw me, that familiar grin appeared, bringing his dimples to my attention as it had the previous evening. They were so perfectly adorable, and seemed to add a strange innocence to his otherwise masculine face. I sincerely doubted the guy was anywhere close to being innocent, given the way his eyes had traveled along my curves the day before.

"You gonna let me in?" Emmett asked, one eyebrow raising slightly as he continued standing in my doorway.

"Sorry," I said quickly, finally tearing my eyes away from his cheeks, "come on in."

I opened the door wide enough for him to walk through, and then closed and locked it behind him. As I did so, I could feel his eyes on me. And when I turned around to face him, I was proven correct. Though, surprisingly, his eyes weren't focused on the parts of my body that I had figured they would have been. Instead, it was as if he had been watching my actions rather than my body.

"Why do you do that?" he asked, giving me a genuinely curious look.

"Lock my door?" I asked, my curiosity matching his.

"Well, yes and no," Emmett answered, "you lock it and then unlock it and lock it back a second time, as though you don't trust it to lock the first time. I noticed you did the same thing yesterday."

I looked at him, not knowing what to say. The fact that he had paid that much attention to me was both intriguing and unnerving.

It was intriguing because, in some strange way, it was as if him noticing such an insignificant action meant he paid more attention to the things that mattered. No one else in my world ever noticed the little things, the tell-tale signs that were silent indications of sadness, worry, anger, fear... His observation was also rather unnerving, however, since other than the fact that he had been hired to inspect my apartment, I had no idea who he was. We were complete strangers, yet he had already picked up on something that even the people who supposedly knew me best had always missed.

The way I saw it, that meant that he was either a very caring guy...or a very dangerous one.

The word 'stalker' came to mind.

"I like to make sure that it's secure," I replied honestly, even though I had been tempted to lie and say that the lock was faulty. Unfortunately, I knew the lie would do no good. He'd probably just 'repair' the lock.

"Any particular reason?"

We stood there for a moment, just staring at each other as if waiting to see who was going to look away first. I did.

"Oh, um, I got your note last night," I said suddenly, glancing over toward where the small piece of paper was still lying on the dining room table, "you really have to knock the entire wall down?"

"Yep," he answered, his eyes never once leaving mine, "I really think it's for the best."

My subject change hadn't been as effective as I had hoped, as I once again found myself locked in a staring contest with him.

Usually, if some random guy came up to me and attempted to stare me down like this, I would politely excuse myself and then leave the area as quickly as possible. But, for some reason, I didn't want to get away from this guy. Regardless of how strange he seemed to be at times, his gaze was oddly comforting.

"Would you like some coffee? You know, before you go to work on the wall?" I asked, surprising even myself. Since when do I offer coffee to random strangers hired to work in the building? With that realization, I immediately tried to backtrack, "nevermind. Sorry. Forget I asked."

"You're going to offer me coffee and then change your mind?" Emmett asked with an amused grin, "now that's a first."

I sighed.

"Fine. Would you like some coffee?," I asked, walking into the kitchen to grab two mugs, since I was pretty certain he was going to accept the offer.

"Are you going to take it back after you pour it?," he asked, clearly enjoying himself.

"Funny," I replied, giving him an unamused look before filling the two mugs and walking over to where I kept the creamer and sugar, "how do you take yours?"

"Black," he answered, "I like the kick."

I added a bit of creamer and a couple of sugar cubes to my own coffee, stirred it for a moment, and then walked over to hand him his mug before sitting down at the dining room table. I enjoyed my morning coffee. It woke me up, energized me. It also gave me time to think about the upcoming day; where I would be going, who I would be seeing. Not that any of that applied to today. Today, I would simply be lounging around the apartment, perhaps doing a little reading, laundry, or whatever else came to mind. Unless, of course, the work on the wall was so noisy that I would have to leave.

"May I?"

I looked up to see Emmett standing across the table from me, his hand on the back of the chair as though he were going to pull it out.

"Aren't you supposed to be working on the wall?," I asked.

"Well, you did just give me a mug of black coffee and knocking a wall down can be messy work. So unless you want a nice, big coffee stain on your lovely white carpet...," he started, giving a little grin and a shrug of his shoulder.

"No, that's okay. Sit," I replied, gesturing to the chair that he was already in the process of pulling out.

Emmett sat down and seemed to just watch me for a moment before speaking again, "you know, you still have yet to properly introduce yourself."

"Do you always involve yourself so thoroughly with the tenants or am I just special?" I asked somewhat sarcastically as I took a welcome sip of my coffee.

"You're special," he answered without missing a beat.

I quickly looked up at him from my coffee, "why?"

Emmett silently took a swig of his coffee, his eyes focused downward to the empty expanse of table in front of him. For the first time since meeting him, there appeared to be something other than interest and amusement in his eyes. His lighthearted playfulness seemed to have been replaced with traces of uncertainty. As if he were unsure of the answer to my question. We had that in common.

"Rosalie," I said quietly, taking another sip of my coffee, "my name is Rosalie."

--

A while later, after finishing our mugs of coffee in silence, Emmett went to work on the wall and I grabbed my book and picked up where I had left off reading the night before. Or tried to, anyway. Though, my mind was lost in thoughts of our brief conversation over coffee. Emmett seemed to be in the same shape I was. He hadn't so much as looked my way since beginning his work.

I sighed.

How could one question have changed the mood between us so quickly? It was a simple three-letter word: why. Though it was a word that seemed to be following me around lately. Why was I allowing my career to slip away? Why did I find myself so uninterested in Phillip? Why had I been feeling so discontented? Why did I seem to feel as though there were something I was missing out on when I practically had the world at my fingertips?

Perhaps it wasn't quite as simple as I would have liked to believe after all.

--

**By the way, the book that Rosalie keeps reading is the first book in the "Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants" series. I really love those books. If you haven't read them, you should give them a try. :)**


	5. Apologies

**Author's Note****:** Just thought I'd let you guys know that updates for me don't come all that often simply because I just write when I get inspired, basically. …Or when a few friends bug me incessantly until I update. Cough…

**Disclaimer****: **I don't own Rosalie or Emmett. :(

--

**Stars All Shine**

**Chapter Five: Apologies**

The entire time Emmett had been working away at the damaged wall, I had been fighting to keep my attention on the book in my hands. The words on the pages seemed to run together, however, and more often than not, I found myself staring at the stranger who had, for some reason, admitted that I was special. The only thing that bothered me somewhat about his admittance was the fact that he seemed unsure of the reason.

I quickly ran through a checklist in my mind of the possible reasons he might have for treating me differently than the other tenants he had visited.

Surprisingly, it didn't seem to be my physical beauty. He was attracted to me; of that, I was certain. Though all of the looks he had given me earlier had been directly in my eyes. His eyes had not wandered along my curves the way they had done the day before, when I had opened my door to him for the first time. Or the way Phillip's eyes always seemed focused more on my lips or outfit while he spoke to me. Phillip rarely seemed to look me directly in the eyes the way Emmett did.

It also didn't seem to be my celebrity status. Other than the way his eyes had briefly widened in realization that first day, he had not seemed to care about who I was. He hadn't babbled on mindlessly like some men do whenever they happen to recognize me in public or even asked me about it.

I was completely clueless. For some reason that seemed to have nothing to do with my beauty or celebrity status, Emmett thought of me as special; for that alone, I thought the same of him. After all, even my own boyfriend would probably dump me if I lost either my beauty or my celebrity status.

"Am I disturbing you?"

Emmett's voice brought me out of my thoughts and I realized that I had once again been staring at him. He must have noticed and misinterpreted it.

"No, sorry," I answered quickly, looking back down at my book.

Of course, I could not remember where I had left off, even though my hand was holding the pages open. I quickly skimmed the words on the page to find that none of it sounded familiar. I must have been absentmindedly flipping pages while lost in thought.

"Emmett?" I spoke quietly, looking back up at him.

"Hmm?" he replied.

Now that I had his attention, I realized that I had no idea what to say. I don't even know why I had spoken his name, other than the fact that he was on my mind.

"I'm sorry if I said anything that made you uncomfortable earlier."

The words had come out before I could stop them. What was it about this guy that made me so completely forget myself around him? Apologizing for something that wasn't really even my fault? I had only asked him a question. It wasn't as if I had said anything to offend him. If anyone was to blame, it was him for telling me I was special.

I was still mentally berating myself for being so foolish when he suddenly appeared beside me on the sofa.

"You don't have to apologize, Rose."

I immediately noticed the shortened version of my name, which usually irritated me. I even hated when Phillip would call me 'Rose', but it sounded different coming from Emmett; sweeter and less condescending somehow.

Emmett must have misread my silence because, after a moment, he continued.

"I just wasn't sure how to answer your question is all," he explained, "you always seem so guarded that I didn't know how to explain without making you think I was some stalkerish weirdo. I'm sure you get those enough. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if you had already lumped me into that category."

I bit my bottom lip to hide a grin; the word 'stalker' had, in fact, briefly come to mind earlier.

"I knew it!" Emmett exclaimed with a laugh, instantaneously melting away all of the tension that had surrounded us moments before.

Encouraged by his laugh, I clarified, "I didn't think you were a weirdo, per se. Not really. You're…intriguing."

"Oh yeah? How so?" Emmett asked, one of his eyebrows rising.

It was interesting how the tables seemed to have turned. However, while Emmett had been unable to answer my questioning of why I was special, I was perfectly capable of answering his question of how he intrigued me.

"I don't know," I answered with a slight shrug, "some of the things you say seem to have more than one meaning."

Emmett seemed to contemplate that for a moment and I tried to read his expression. I couldn't tell if he were confused by my comment or surprised that I had caught on. It wouldn't be the first time someone had been shocked by my intellect. People were often too quick to assume that I was a typical 'dumb blonde'. I couldn't imagine Emmett having thought that about me, however. Thus far, he had seemed to expect more of me than other people did.

It wasn't much later that we discovered it was getting close to time for Emmett to leave and go home or wherever he usually went in the evenings and I found myself not wanting him to leave.

I watched as Emmett packed up his tools and began to make his way over to the door, eager to ask him whether he would be coming back the following day to continue the work on the wall. I didn't get the chance to do so.

Emmett stopped right at the door and turned to look at me, his brow furrowed.

"If you're free tonight, would you maybe want to get some dinner later?"

I wanted to say yes. Actually, I wanted to run into my bedroom, change into one of my sexiest outfits and leave with him right then. Unfortunately, I was currently still in a relationship and the last thing I needed was for some tabloid to print pictures of me and Emmett out together for Phillip to see and get upset over. Public breakups were hell. Not to mention the bum rap Emmett would get for supposedly breaking up our 'perfect' relationship. I couldn't do that to him.

"I'm sorry, Emmett. I can't," I answered with a sigh.

His disappointment was evident in the frown that immediately creased his forehead and pulled down the corners of his mouth.

"Okay."

"But if you'd like to maybe…go get some takeout and bring it back here, we could do that?" I suggested suddenly. I smiled as I saw the frown disappear from his face, replaced with a wide smile that brought out his dimples.

"Alright, I can do that," Emmett replied, one corner of his lips still upturned.

"Alright," I replied with a small nod before opening the door for him.

"Anything in particular you would like?" he asked, stepping out into the hall.

"Surprise me," I answered.

Emmett nodded before walking toward the elevators, looking back over his shoulder and giving me one last smile before he disappeared around the corner.

I leaned against the doorframe for a moment, sighing as I thought about what I had just done. For all intents and purposes, I was not a single woman. I was very much involved with Phillip, even if our relationship was extremely superficial and unfulfilling. I did care for Phillip and owed him more than to be messing around with someone while he was off working in Italy.

Not that I was planning on 'messing around' with Emmett.

The fact was, however, that I was starting to find myself interested in the guy. He was certainly nice to look at, but it was more than that. He intrigued me in a way that no one ever had before.

I finally snapped myself out of my thoughts and closed the door to my apartment just as the phone began to ring.


	6. Advantages

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Rosalie or Emmett. :(

--

**Stars All Shine**

**Chapter Six: Advantages**

After walking over to the ringing phone, I sighed as I instantly recognized the phone number displayed on the caller ID. Phillip. I quickly debated whether or not to let the machine pick it up.

If I answered, Phillip would know that I was safe, sound, and – at least for now – alone. If I didn't answer, perhaps he might think I had gone out or that I had in fact gone to visit my parents as I had mentioned at the restaurant. Knowing him, however, he would then call my parents to see if I were there and when they told him that I wasn't, as they surely would, he would worry. Though I often wondered exactly what he worried about whenever he 'worried'. I somehow doubted that it was simply for my wellbeing.

"Hello?" I answered coolly.

"How is my girl doing over there all alone?" Phillip asked.

"Fine. How was your flight?"

"Oh, you know how it usually goes," he replied. "We were delayed for a bit, which put me a little behind schedule. It's around midnight here now and I just got into my hotel room."

I knew with one glance at the clock, that the delay would have to have been rather drastic for him to have just gotten into his hotel. Had the plane been on time, he would have arrived nearly four hours ago.

"So how did everything go today?" Phillip asked. I could tell from the tone of his voice that there was something particular on his mind. "Our handyman friend behave himself?"

Emmett. I should have known.

"Of course," I answered, suddenly anxious to get off the phone. I was not in the mood to talk to Phillip about Emmett. No matter how seemingly innocent the conversation, I knew there were other thoughts and opinions bubbling beneath the surface of Phillip's comments; thoughts and opinions that were not exactly complimentary to Emmett.

Thoughts and opinions that, until today, I most likely would have shared.

In our social class, guys like Emmett were practically considered a lower life form. They were the ones who served our meals, carried our luggage, or repaired our overly expensive possessions. They weren't our friends.

With that thought, I began wondering how things had changed so quickly. Had it really been only yesterday that I had met Emmett and thought nothing more of him than a mere repairman? Did I see him as more now? If I did, what was it about him that brought on the change? What made him so different from all of the chauffeurs, concierge, and other help that I dealt with on a regular basis? To be honest, I wasn't completely sure. Though, he _was_ different. Of that, I was certain.

"…did you hear me, Rosalie?"

Phillip's question, spoken in a disapproving tone, brought me back out of my thoughts. Before I could reply, the doorbell rang.

"Pizza is here. I'll talk to you later, Phil."

"Since when do you ea–," Phillip began as I quickly hung up the phone and turned off the ringer. I knew the action would not make Phillip happy and I would be asked about it during our next conversation, but I couldn't help myself.

Walking over to the front door, an unexpected bunch of nerves seeming to settle in my stomach with each step, I peeked through the peephole and smiled to myself as I saw Emmett standing there.

"Welcome back," I said as I opened the door, curiously looking down to the bags in his hands to see what he had brought back. The action was unnecessary, however, as I recognized the scents as soon as they hit my nostrils. "Chinese."

"It's the best," Emmett replied, still standing outside the door. Unlike Phillip, Emmett waited until invited to enter my apartment before crossing the threshold.

"Come on in," I said, opening the door wide and then closing and locking it behind him.

I led Emmett to the kitchen where he proceeded to empty the bags and set everything he had bought in a makeshift buffet on the kitchen counter.

"I got spring rolls, because you have to have those, and Char Sui. That's basically roasted pork," Emmett explained as he used a set of chopsticks to point to the different boxes. "Then we have rice, lettuce, chicken, black bean noodles and finally, Crab Rangoon. It's one of my favorites."

I wasn't sure which amused me more; the fact that I was about to eat cheap Chinese takeout, which I hadn't done in years, or the look on Emmett's face as he spoke of the food. There was such appreciation in his eyes that I could tell that Chinese food was something he really enjoyed and I suddenly wondered whether his face would light up the same way if he were to speak to or of someone he cared about.

"So what do you think?" Emmett asked, looking over at me. The gentle crease between his brows made it clear that my opinion on his choice of dinner genuinely mattered to him. It was a refreshing change from Phillip's indifference.

I quickly looked back down at all the small boxes lining my counter and smiled, "it's great. Thank you, Emmett."

Foregoing the dining room table, Emmett and I sat on the floor in the living room on either side of the glass coffee table as we ate. He spoke of how he was drafted into the repairman business by his father and I told of how I had been encouraged by my parents to get into modeling.

"Did you ever consider not listening to them and doing something else instead?" I asked curiously before carefully pulling off a piece of a Rangoon star.

"Of course. You don't think repairman was my first choice, do you?" Emmett replied with a grin, and then added, "Though, I must admit, this job does have its advantages."

Knowing that he was referring to me, I looked down at my plate and pushed around what was left of my noodles as I wondered how many other 'advantages' his job had afforded him.

We sat in silence for a few moments before Emmett spoke once more, "what about you? Was there ever anything you wanted to do besides modeling?"

This question always made me uncomfortable. Not because I was ashamed of the answer, but because people usually responded in a way that made me feel silly. Even though they may not have said it aloud, something about their tone always made it seem as though they didn't see any reason for me to have wanted to do anything other than modeling. As if being pretty was the only thing I could ever have been good at.

Deciding that I wasn't quite ready to be so honest with him, I instead mimicked his reply, "Of course. Though, I must admit, this job does have its advantages."

Emmett laughed.

I laughed, too. It was easier to do that than to think about the harsh reality of a career in the modeling industry; the reality that was always hidden behind the glitz and glamour of the elite fashion shows, magazine covers, and photo spreads. People outside of our world would know nothing of the sacrifices models made, but I knew them all too well.

--

**Author's Note:** The lovely meal that Emmett brings back to Rosalie's apartment was the brainchild of one of my dear friends, Seb ('Valius 926' on ). He plays 'Emmett' on EquinoxRPG[dot]com, which is an awesome Twilight RPG site that everyone should join. I play the part of 'Rosalie' and I've had a lot of fun getting to know Seb. Let me tell you guys, he is the _perfect_ 'Emmett.' Honestly. So when I was trying to decide what to have Emmett bring back, I went straight to the source. lol

Oh, and again, I'm sorry for taking so long between each chapter. I tend to only write when I get inspired, which, obviously, doesn't seem to happen too often. But thank you to everyone who has left reviews for this story. You guys give me the confidence to continue it and I sincerely appreciate you all.


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